Housewarming, a Thieves in Time story 14
by Orion Lyonesse
Summary: Everyone who is anyone is coming to celebrate with Avon and Vila and Cally. But can Vila get Avon to wear his kilt? Follows 'Out of the Darkness.' A/V.
1. First Guest

_A/N: This follows after OUT OF THE DARKNESS, continuing the saga of Vila and Avon after surviving Gauda Prime. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. This story is set on Darkover, which belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

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Vila's office was filled with cheerful clutter. Unlike most of the mansion, which was predominantly decorated in burgundy, black and silver, this room was a haven of warmth, in greens, golds and warm whites. His desk, where Vila could put his hand on any bit of paper or data chip he desired, nonetheless looked to the casual observer like some small animal had been chasing its tail there. The comfortable green padded armchair where he sat had a well-worn look. The warm white plastered walls held a few paintings, mostly pastorals, by local artists of local scenery, but the largest wall, from the wooden wainscoting up, was almost covered with a vid display of a galactic map, with the locations of every Avilla Trading Company ship, market, and contact, color-coded, of course.

Avon lounged in one of the two visitors' chairs, of dark green leather studded with brass buttons. Contrasting to Avon's ease, Vila simply vibrated tension.

+Information: A ship is requesting clearance to Avilla's private landing field.+ ORAC's voice issued from a hidden speaker, jerking Vila's head up from his hand-held data pad, where he'd been reviewing preparations for the big celebration.

"That'll be Cally, then," Vila said happily. "It'll be good to see her again."

"Agreed," Avon replied, closing the book he'd been reading and setting it aside. "Three years is a long time."

"I've missed her. I'm glad she accepted the invitation to the party, Avon."

"So am I." Avon let his thoughts drift for a few moments, back to that awful time when they'd parted. He had very little conscious memory of those first days after Gauda Prime, but he did remember Cally's heroic rescue of his mind. She'd been largely responsible for his return to sanity, making possible his life with Vila and what it was now. He would always be grateful to her. "ORAC, how soon will she be landing?" he asked, so he'd have enough time to get the horse and cart up to the landing field.

+PAXON arrival time is estimated at twenty minutes.+

"Twenty minutes!" Vila yelped, panicked. "But I'm not ready for guests yet!"

Avon chuckled with amusement. "Relax, Vila, it's Cally. She won't expect any special treatment." He was used to Vila's ideas of hospitality by now. He had to have everything perfect, or he felt himself a failure. It was ever his job to calm Vila down so that the man could enjoy whatever event he was focused on. As far as Avon was concerned, Vila's handling of anything he put his mind to was exceptional, whether a business transaction or giving a party.

Slightly mollified, Vila took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in his stomach. "Well, our guest quarters are prepared for the party crowd, so I suppose there won't be a problem. You go meet the shuttle. I'll see if there are any last minute preparations that need to be taken care of."

Avon smiled, one that reached his eyes and crinkled the corners. He rose, leaned across the desk, and placed a warm kiss on Vila's brow, well below the receding hairline of his sparse sandy hair.

His partner blinked up at him in surprise. "What was that for?"

Cupping a hand along Vila's jaw, he replied, "Just for being you."

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The landing site had barely cooled enough for the comfort of shod hooves when Avon arrived in the trap. The bay cob he drove was skittery at the smells of the ship and field but behaved well enough under his master's expert handling. Cally stood in the hatchway smiling. As Avon pulled to a stop, she waved, picked up a bag and, securing the opening, ran to meet him. She tossed the bag into the boot and lithely clambered up beside him.

"Avon, it is so good to see you again." She hugged him, smiling to herself as she realized the man had not flinched as he would have in the past but had actually encouraged the contact.

"It's good to see you, too, Cally. I'm pleased that you decided to attend."

"Nothing could have kept me from this, Avon, nothing," she replied, laughing lightly at him. "And how is Vila?"

"Flustered because he thought he'd have a little more warning before you arrived, but other than that, the same as ever." Avon grinned. "Well, no, I think…oh, what the hell, he's better than ever! And he'll be just as glad to see you as I am."

"I've missed both of you very much," she said, settling into the padded bench seat, one hand clutching the ornamental iron rail that surmounted its back and sides. She fell silent as Avon drove them from the landing plateau, down the hill to a flat plain, where, at the far end of the expanse, rose the soon-to-be official headquarters of Avilla Trading Company.

Cally realized that at this point they had begun to travel on a well-maintained road, instead of the graveled switchback down the hill. Shortly thereafter they approached the great stone arch across it, with a curious insignia at the top, and the name Avilla carved beneath it. Avon pulled the trap to a stop, allowing Cally a good look. At first glance, she thought the two modernistic designs were very reminiscent of the old Federation emblem, then saw that they could easily be stylized spaceships, one upright, the other upended, both mostly within a circle. Then she smiled as she realized they represented the letters A and V, surmounting a circle.

"You sigil is very interesting, Avon."

"I'm glad you think so. Vila designed it." He chuckled. "The locals think it's very odd."

"And the name, Avilla? His idea as well?"

"No, that was mine. It's the word for peace in one of the local dialects. I…thought it appropriate."

"Then you have found it here…peace, I mean?" she inquired gently as they proceeded under the arch and onto the house grounds proper.

"Yes, I think I have," he answered softly.

As they neared the stables, a groom appeared to hold the horse. Avon jumped down, assisted Cally to the ground, then grabbed her bag. He led her further down the road toward the magnificent house.

"I could have taken you through the covered connecting passages, but I wanted you to get the full effect of the house from the gate," he explained. "It's taken two years to reach this point and, while it isn't complete and probably won't be for several more years, it is workable and quite livable, as you will see."

"It is lovely, Avon," Cally breathed in awe, as she stopped to appreciate the structure fully.

It was a massive building, of solid construction, as it would have to be to withstand the severe weather conditions of this planet's coldest months. It was built of imported materials and local wood and stone, with an inner courtyard bounded by a solid, 8' fence with great wooden gates, now standing open, but which could be securely closed if need be.

Cally smiled as she noted Avon and Vila's sigil carved into both the gates and the great double front doors.

"Nice, Avon, very nice indeed. You've done well."

They were interrupted by a shout from the top of the stairs as Vila burst out of the doors, clattered down expanse of semi-circular steps, and ran to join them.

"Cally, it's wonderful to see you again!" he cried, first clasping her hands in his, then abandoning them to engulf the smaller woman in a fierce welcoming hug. "I wish you had given us more time, though," he scolded, shaking his head in mock dismay. Then he smiled again, fairly beaming with pride. "Come on in, Cally, and welcome to our home."

Cally smiled over at Avon, who was trying valiantly to hide a grin at Vila's reception. She allowed herself to be led by the hand up the stone steps, through the double doors, and into the huge entry hall. She stopped just inside, pulling Vila to a halt. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed with wonder.

The entry hall was large and paved with grey-veined black marble, imported from some distant world. In the center of the floor, the Avilla ensign was repeated in a large circle. The walls were paneled and hung with tapestries and sconces, all combining to produce an air of elegance and warm welcome. The grand staircase rose from the center of the area, its carpeted steps wide and elegant, leading upward to a second story gallery. A pair of arched double doors led off to the left, while a carpeted hall led off to the right. Other doors interrupted the entry hall on either side as far as she could see.

"Come into the library, Cally," Avon invited. Stealing her from Vila, he pulled her to the double doors and threw them with a flourish.

The library was huge, dark-paneled and high-ceilinged, and lined with shelves of old-style books intermingled with sculptures and other art objects. On the left, directly in front of the large bay window with its heavy burgundy drapes, stood a bare carved dark wooden desk fronted by several black leather wingback chairs. Directly across from the doors was a large flagstone fireplace dominating one wall, a crackling fire in place that warmed the small grouping of deep red leather furniture before it. Another smaller desk stood to one side and there were two other chair groups scattered about, each on its own distinctively patterned red and ebony rug.

Avon led Cally to the leather sofa by the fire where Vila had laid out a light meal of tea, sandwiches and cakes on a low, small table. The tea service was of heavy ornate silver, with the Avilla ensign engraved on all the pieces.


	2. Tea and Memories

_A/N:__The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

_Now that we have the three friends back together, it is time for a lot of catching up, and a few startling revelations._

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"Well, Cally," Avon began as Vila poured the tea, "how have you been?"

"Busy!" the Auron answered, her face alight with enthusiasm. "As I'm sure Vila recalls, I told him that first time that the psychic noise here was almost unbearable to me. However, over the past two years, I've developed a shielding technique that I'm working to perfect. It's now possible for me to visit without the distraction of so many telepaths that I endured when I brought you here."

"Does that mean you'll be able to stay with us, then?" Vila asked her eagerly. They were both very fond of her and it would be wonderful if she could come to stay permanently with them.

"No," Cally answered, shaking her head. "You see…" she hesitated, sucking in her lower lip, just a bit nervous about revealing her big news, "I have a daughter now."

Vila looked pointedly at Avon, who gave him his best 'it's not mine' look. Vila grinned, then laughed outright. "Oh, Avon, you didn't think I…that you…"

"Of course not," was the succinct reply, followed by a hearty laugh.

"Tell us about her, please," Vila entreated.

Cally smiled with relief. "Her name is Serran and she is two years old now. The Auronae who rescued me from Terminal have been intent on gathering all our people together to create a new home on Kaarn. There aren't very many of us left but perhaps there are enough. One of them was a cloning specialist. Serran is a clone of my body." Cally's face simply glowed with happiness. "She is such a joy to me, Avon! We share a telepathic link already and she is learning the mental disciplines as she grows and needs them. Oh, Avon…Vila, I'm not alone anymore!" The tears in her eyes were obviously tears of joy. Her face seemed lit from within. Vila rose and kissed her cheek.

Avon settled back into the chair, offering, "Congratulations, Cally, I'm so happy for you."

"Ahem…" Avon interrupted them. "I have something to share with you too, Cally."

Both Cally and Vila turned toward Avon, Cally curiously, Vila knowing what was coming.

"What is it, Avon? Tell me."

*Open your shields, Cally.* Avon's voice echoed faintly in her mind. Her eyes opened wide as a smile of joy and astonishment spread across her face. Consciously, she lowered the barriers enough to let Avon past.

*Avon, this is wonderful. But how and when?*

Vila looked from one to the other, sadly knowing that they now shared something he never could. Putting on the best face he could, he said to them, "If you two are through communing, maybe you could switch back to audio for the benefit of a mere mortal?" Both of them started out of their silent communication and laughed nervously.

"Of course, you're right, Vila," Cally apologized.

Avon was more solicitous. "I'm sorry, Vila, that was rude and insensitive of me."

Vila nodded, frowning in mock concern. "S'all right, Avon, but don't make a habit of it, okay?"

"I won't," he promised solemnly, keeping a straight face with difficulty.

"Tell me, Avon. How did it happen?" Cally curled her legs beneath her and leaned toward him intently.

"You know of course that when you brought us here, Vila contacted the local tower. That's what they call the psi centers here. It took their healers the better part of a year to get me back to some semblance of normalcy. In the process, they…fixed, I guess you'd say, something that wasn't broken, my own psi abilities. But you knew I had them, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Of course, Avon. They were hard to miss. I knew they were either suppressed by you or by someone in your past. I doubted you even knew you had them."

Avon thought for a minute, his face going still, his eyes opaque. "But other than receiving from you, I don't remember any psi episodes from my past."

Vila interrupted at that. "But I knew, Avon."

Avon eyebrows rose in astonishment. This was news to him. "You did? But how?"

"You're not thinking back far enough. Do you remember when you were 14 and I was on the Liberator?" †

Cally blinked at that, frowning. "But I thought you two were the same age. I'm confused."

Vila was eager to explain. "One time, on the Liberator, after Star One, I…had a visitor from the past: a 14-year-old version of Avon showed up one night, looking for me to get the help he needed. He was locked in an air-tight safe, so he projected himself into the future, looking for me as an adult with the proper knowledge to get him out. He used his mind to travel in time. We…couldn't get the reverse trip to work so we were forced to ask the adult Avon for help. He solved the problem, Kerr and I traveled back, I unlocked the safe, then I went back to the Liberator."

"I'm still not sure I understand, Vila. Why would Avon at 14 go to you for help?"

Vila looked at her, a question unspoken on his lips, memories of a mid-watch shared with her five years before.

*It is all right, Vila. Avon knows of that night and what you told me. Now I understand,* Cally said into Vila's mind. ††

She spoke aloud again. "But there were other episodes, weren't there, Avon?"

"Yes," he said, drawing out the word into a hiss. He looked at Vila. "I remember. It was just before we went to visit Egrorian, wasn't it? I told you not to trust me, that I felt I was a danger to you, and the others. You should have listened to me; it would have saved us a lot of heartache." †††

From the look on Avon's face, it was evident that he not only remembered the incident but the results that had come charging in to destroy all those lives but Vila's soon after.

Cally and Vila sat silently for a few minutes, allowing Avon to deal with his private ghosts.

Finally, she asked, "Vila, what was it? Did Avon have a premonition of what happened on Gauda Prime?"

"Oh, no," Avon answered for himself. "It was worse than that. That I didn't succeed is no credit to me. We were on a shuttle that had been sabotaged by Egrorian. There was an incredibly dense bit of space debris on board, preventing us from reaching escape velocity. I only just got it out the airlock in time to prevent us from crashing. But at the time, I…was perfectly willing…to toss Vila out the airlock to lighten the load and save my own miserable neck." ††††

Vila rushed in to help him. "But you didn't kill me, Avon. And besides, by then, I…think you were well and truly mad, or at least psychotic. If we'd been more observant, maybe we could have kept us all off Gauda Prime." _And maybe Blake would still be alive_, he thought to himself.

"Insane or not, I did try to kill Vila. I know that we made it up after, but I will never forgive myself for what I put him through. And that little episode could be directly traced to Servalan, too!" His voice sounded bitter. Then, recognizing his own dark mood, he made an abrupt about-face to leave it behind him. "I didn't mean to get so maudlin, Cally, must be the brandy I think Vila put in my tea."

"Me? Why, Avon, I did no such thing," Vila sputtered, glad to lighten the mood and change the subject. "But I do think it's time I said good night. I have a big day tomorrow to stage manage and have to be up early," he continued. "Avon can sleep in. He can show you to your quarters whenever you're ready."

Avon rose from his chair to follow Vila.

"No, love," Vila protested, "you don't have to leave our guest so early just for my sake. Stay and talk." He looked at her with a good-natured smile on his open, happy face. "Goodnight, Cally, I'll see you in the morning." Bending, he kissed her lightly on the forehead, then turned and kissed Avon fully on the lips, more of a promise than a goodnight.

After Vila had left, they sat together on the sofa, watching the crackling fire. They passed several minutes in silence before Cally remarked quietly, "He really loves you, Avon. I'm glad for both of you that you've had the chance to be happy together."

Avon didn't answer, appearing to be deep in his own private world. At last he said, "I know, and I know I don't deserve that or him. I don't know how to repay him for all those years, for his friendship, his care, his…love. I feel so inadequate before it all."

"Inadequate? Excuse me, Avon, but you are wrong! You've given Vila your friendship, your love and a home. I don't call that nothing." She looked at him speculatively. "But there's something else, isn't there, Avon. Tell me, what's really bothering you?"

He remained silent so long she thought he wouldn't answer, but Cally was nothing if not patient, especially where Avon was concerned.

At last, he burst out in anguish, "Cally, I've never told him that I love him!"

"Oh, Avon, no wonder you feel this way." She reached over and laid one slender hand on his forearm. "You mustn't let this go on any longer. You must tell him." She looked closer at the man he'd become. The silver shading in his hair glowed in the firelight and she saw tears glimmering on his face.

Rising, she went to sit on the arm of sofa next to him. With her hand comfortingly placed on his shoulder, she urged gently, "Avon, it's not too late."

He gripped her hand as she explained, "When I first joined the crew of the Liberator, I too felt as if I'd been betrayed by my own people. I refused to acknowledge any feelings for anything or anyone. I was lonely for much of the time, except for my friendship with the crew, with you and Vila especially. Then when Blake left, I realized I'd never told him how much I cared for him and what he was trying to do. Then one day he was gone and I never had the chance." She stopped as she saw the look on the man's face. "I think perhaps there were things you wanted to tell him as well."

Avon just nodded, not wanting to remember that part of his past, but wondering just how much Cally knew.

"Don't wait, Avon," Cally told him softly. "This far away from everything we knew, on a primitive world, anything could happen when you least expect it. What if…"

"What if he died without ever having heard me tell him I love him?" Avon completed her statement. "I couldn't live with that, Cally. And I do love him."

"I know you do, Avon. I saw it the night you shared your vows with each other and I see it more profoundly now. Tell him, tell him every day of your life. It is the single most important thing you could ever do. It's not too late," Cally said, rising. "Go to him now. You owe him. No, you owe both of you that."

"You're right, as always. I do owe us that."

After summoning a servant to show Cally to her rooms, Avon left the library, a determined smile on his face.

† _See __SAFE__._

†† _See __FREEDOM'S CHAINS__, Part Four._

††† _See __FORESHADOW__._

†††† _See __FINAL ORBIT_


	3. Redressing Past Mistakes

_A/N:__The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

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Their suite of rooms was on the second floor, just to the right of the gallery at the top of the stairs. Belying his age, Avon fairly sprinted up the stairs. Entering the sitting room, illuminated only by the firelight, he crossed to the bedroom, pausing with his hand on the knob. He knew Vila was behind the closed door, probably reading, his glasses perched precariously on his nose as usual. They had stocked their library with real books that Vila had taken an immense pleasure in devouring. Avon thought of the fine mind that had been denied a decent education just for being born Delta and was glad that he could give the man a chance to satisfy his hunger for knowledge. Shaking off his melancholy musings, he entered the bedroom.

Vila looked up from his book, peeled off the wire-rimmed glasses and grinned.

"You didn't stay with Cally very long," he commented.

"We…covered what we needed to."

"It's really nice having her here, isn't it, Avon?"

"Yes, it is, very nice indeed."

Avon shed his jacket and went to sit on the bed beside his mate.

"Well," Vila chuckled, "it must have been serious."

Avon said nothing, just sat quietly looking down at the richly-colored coverlet. When Vila could stand it no longer, he reached over and placed a hand over Avon's. "Is something wrong?"

Avon's voice was so low that Vila had to strain to hear it, even this close and in this quiet room. "I've wronged you, Vila, all these years." He looked up into those warm caring eyes. "We've been together for almost 40 years, and still I wrong you."

Vila was taken aback, having no clue where any of this was coming from or where it was leading. "Does this have anything to do with our discussion of Malodaar tonight?" He was guessing. Perhaps merely bringing it up had stirred the guilt and bad memories in Avon's mind. He hoped not. Watching Avon claw his way back to sanity had been the hardest thing he'd ever endured and they were both alert for anything that could possibly send the man spiraling back down again.

Avon shook his head, flinching at the mention of that hated name. His long hair fell forward, obscuring his face.

By now, Vila was truly worried. Something, something bad, was bothering Avon and he, Vila, couldn't help if he didn't know what it was. "Whatever it is, you can tell me, Avon. You know I care for you."

"That's just it, Vila!" Avon exploded, then, more softly as he saw the look of fright on Vila's face, he continued, "You remember that technical show we went to when we were seventeen?" †

Vila's lips quirked in a smile. "Of course I do. And I remember what happened afterward…distinctly."

"Well then, do you remember what you said to me, that I tried to keep you from saying, that I…couldn't say back to you?"

"I remember you telling me that there'd be no words of love, no commitment between us."

"But I did commit myself to you that night on the Liberator with Cally as witness, even if I couldn't say the words." ††

Vila finally understood what was bothering his partner, and he rushed to console him. "Oh, Avon, after all these years, the words are there in your heart, even if you don't say them. Everything you do for me is proof of what you feel."

Avon laid a single elegant finger on Vila's lips. "No…let me finish." He was suddenly shy in this man's presence, but raised his eyes to Vila's, then pulled him closer.

"I…I love you, Vila," he whispered against the other man's ear. "I love you," he repeated, shocked to his soul at how easy it was to say again after the first time. "There, I've said it and it feels right and I'm glad!" He stared almost defiantly at Vila who simply smiled back at him.

"To hear you say it now means more to me than you could know, Avon. It's more than I ever hoped for and I was content over the years with just the knowledge. Now, my happiness is complete." His eyes brimming with tears, he pulled his lover into a fierce embrace and kissed him deeply.

Avon returned the kiss with all the unspoken love and commitment that was in him for this man who'd stood beside him for so long.

Vila finally broke from the kiss, a simple smile of joy curving his lips upward. "It's quite late, Avon. Don't forget, the housewarming's tomorrow night. We have a lot of work to do and the day starts early."

"I really don't give a damn about all that, Vila," Avon growled easily. "I love you and I want to prove it!" He tumbled Vila over onto his back and proceeded to do just that.

Long after Vila had fallen into a deep, contented slumber, snoring ever so softly, Avon lay awake thinking. Finally, he rose quietly from the bed and returned to the fire lit sitting room. Reaching inside a hidden compartment in the small desk, he pulled out a piece of parchment, and put the finishing touches on his own personal housewarming gift for the man he loved.

† _See __UNSAFE AT ANY SPEED__, Part 7._

†† _See __EVER I SAW YOUR FACE__, Part 2._

_A/N: The big day of celebration, with all their neighbors and business associates, has finally come. Will it be the success that Vila has envisioned or will all his planning come to naught?_


	4. To Kilt or Not to Kilt

_A/N: The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

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"Come on, Avon, the guests have already begun to arrive and Cally's down there alone to greet them," Vila called out from the bathroom. "Your clothes are all laid out on the bed."

Avon sighed. He'd never really enjoyed parties but was very aware of the necessity for them at times. Now especially, as they'd invited all the families from the surrounding estates, plus clan representatives from distant regions and business associates from Trade City and the space port. He'd also asked a few acquaintances from the tower. If nothing else, it would make for an interesting evening. Notwithstanding, he thought, it also gave him a chance to show off his new home as those traveling great distances would be quartered here for the next several days.

He pushed the bedroom door open and his jaw dropped. "No!" he shouted. "Absolutely not! I won't!"

Vila came through the door behind him at that moment. "Avon, please." He didn't want all his plans for a perfect celebration to be ruined at the last moment by a stubborn partner. He wanted them to fit in with this culture and its people. He most especially wanted to see Avon in a kilt.

"Vila," he said, advancing on the other man, a definite threat of the 'old' Avon in his eyes, "I will NOT wear a skirt!"

"But it's not a skirt, Avon, it's a kilt! Besides," he countered, looking down at himself, "I'm wearing one."

"It's. A. Skirt," Avon bit out.

"Well, at least try it on," he pleaded. Maybe seeing how good he looked in it would make Avon relent. Slyly, he added, "You do have such nice legs. It's a shame to hide them."

"Maybe I do," he agreed grumpily, "but I don't have to show them off to everyone, now, do I?"

"But I had the plaid designed especially for us." Vila picked up the straight piece of fabric from the bed and tossed it to Avon.

Avon had to admit that the colours were very striking, the black and silver, cross-woven with the red and gold, his and Vila's colours combined into one pattern. He looked up as his mate was fastening his own kilt. He watched in silence as Vila put the finishing touched on the ensemble. A length of the plaid lay over one shoulder, secured there to the full-sleeved white shirt with a large gold and ruby broach, then falling free down his back in a graceful drape. His legs were covered by almost-knee-high white stockings, with a bit of their plaid at the top. Soft leather shoes with golden buckles adorned his feet. Vila had obviously done his research, Avon noted with grudging approval, and he did look splendid.

"Well, you're the one who told me about how the ancestors of the people here came from old calendar Scotland on Earth. I asked a few questions and found out that some of the older, more conservative clans espouse the traditional Highland attire on formal occasions, so I thought…"

"Well, don't think, Vila," he interrupted briskly. "That's usually a sign of danger."

Vila had had enough. All his planning had come down to Avon refusing to do his part, and insulting his intelligence, too. He drew himself up, unsmiling, his brown eyes going flinty. "I'm going downstairs, Avon. Cally will need help. I'll see you later." Without waiting for a reply, Vila turned in a swirl of plaid and left a very confounded Kerr Avon contemplating the closed door.

He stood still a long moment before turning to the clothing spread out on the bed. The shoes, hose, plaid and shirt were much the same as Vila's, with the addition of a black velvet jacket covering the shirt, and his large broach was silver and hematite. Avon picked the broach up, turning it over in his hands and discovering an inscription on the back. Putting on his reading glasses, he took it nearer the lamp, reading, "To my beloved Avon. Peace at last. Vila."

Touched beyond words, he stared at the broach a moment longer, then rose and began to dress – in the kilts.

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"Cally, I don't think he's coming," Vila worried. "He was so…angry about the kilt, I'm afraid he'll just stay up there and sulk all evening. Then everything will go wrong." He pushed back a lock of fair hair that had fallen into his face. He was wearing it longer these days, but still wasn't used to dealing with it. "I meant for all our business associates and neighbors to meet and get to know him on home ground, so to speak. With the house nearly finished and the rest of the estate coming along so well, it's only a matter of time before he starts helping me with the trading business, and these people are important to the business. What am I going to do, Cally?" He turned to eye the lovely Auron woman at his side.

Cally was wearing the clothes Vila had thoughtfully provided, a green velvet laced vest, a full length plaid skirt and sash in Vila's pattern, with a white blouse. The copper broach holding her sash had a brilliant emerald stone in the center. Suddenly, she smiled, glancing over Vila's shoulder toward the staircase. "I don't think you have to worry about Avon anymore. Look." She gestured upward.

Vila turned expectantly. A hush fell on the great hall as all heads turned to watch the master of the estate and co-owner of Avilla Trading Co. descending the stairs. There's just something innately sensual about a kilt-clad man who knows how to move, with just the barest swagger of the hips that detracts not a jot from his masculinity. And Avon knew, oh, how he knew!

A grin began to spread over Vila's face. Avon, clothed in the full highland regalia, was without a doubt the most magnificent male in the room. Avon caught Vila's smile and returned it with one of pure devilment as he made his entrance.

Though it was common knowledge that these two were devoted entirely to each other, more than a few of the women in the room would have, at that moment, given their fortunes to try and lure him from his freemate, and not a few of the men felt the same way. It was an impossibility, to be sure, but it never hurt to dream.

Knowing full well the impression he was making, Avon approached, linking arms with Vila, and greeted Cally. "You certainly look lovely tonight, Cally, and in Vila's plaid, too." He turned to smile directly at Vila as he added, "As am I. It would appear that we both belong to Vila, wouldn't it?"

Vila blinked, at a loss for words. Was Avon serious or joking? Was he angry somehow at him? Once again, Avon had surprised Vila by behaving contrary to expectations. Vila sighed and clasped Avon's arm tighter. Living with this man was always an adventure.

Cocking his head at Vila, Avon broke the silent deadlock. "Thank you, Vila, for the broach…and the sentiment in the inscription." Greatly daring, he kissed Vila lightly on the lips. _Right in front of everybody_, Vila thought, completely astonished by this public exhibition of affection from this normally very reserved and private man.

He squeezed Vila's arm. "Now, shall we…mingle? You need to introduce me to our business associates and neighbors. Cally?" He offered his other arm to her and more or less towed his two startled friends off into the crowd.


	5. Gifts

_A/N: The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

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The celebrating was a raving success, with many gifts presented to and received graciously by both hosts and hostess. Finally, Vila called for silence. He had a presentation of his own to make.

After the room had quieted, he announced, "I have the finishing touch for our house." He reached into a hidden cupboard and pulled out a large, flat, oblong package. He pulled the wrapper off and held it up. A collective gasp swept over the room. The portrait was incredible.

Now Avon understood the reason for Vila's insistence on their traditional attire. The painting was of both men, in their distinctive plaid, with a seated, smiling Vila in full light, looking slightly up at Avon, while Avon's countenance was in partial shadow with the light coming from behind, highlighting the deep silver streaks in his hair. He was gazing down at his mate, an almost-smile gracing his face, one hand on Vila's shoulder. If there had been any doubt before of the love these two felt for one another, it was dispelled in the instant that the likenesses were displayed above the fireplace for all to see.

"How? When?" Avon managed to ask Vila as he helped to position the frame.

"I just contacted a local artist, had him use a photographic likeness of us, then gave him a sample of the plaid and told him what I wanted. I hope you aren't angry."

"Angry?" His eyebrows rose as he turned shining eyes toward his lover. "Vila, it's the most remarkable gift I've ever received. How can I thank you?"

"You already have, Avon," he said, just a touch shyly, a tiny smile lifting the corners of this lips.

The look of love in Avon's eyes was one of complete understanding.

With the portrait in place, Avon went to a wall cupboard and opened it. He took out a small harp and turned to Cally. "I've always regretted that we were unable to save your harp when the Liberator was destroyed," he told her.

Vila picked up the thread. "We found this one when we were having the house rebuilt. Avon had it re-worked and restrung, but he refuses to play it and I'm nowhere near as skilled as you are."

Avon handed the harp to the astounded and delight Auron. "It's our gift to you." He turned to the guests. "If you're amenable, I'd like Cally to play for us."

Receiving general agreement, Cally sat and began to play a lively tune. Someone brought out his pipes and began to accompany her. Feet and hands kept time, then someone started the dancing.

The evening was successful, more than either Avon or Vila could have predicted. Their future here was assured, at least among the influential and neighbors there that night.

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"Well, I had a wonderful time, Avon," Vila said as the last of their guests were sent off to quarters for the night. "But I must say, I'm glad it's just us now."

They went back into the library where Cally sat waiting.

As they entered, she said, "I have gifts for you as well, but because of their personal nature I thought I'd wait until it was just the three of us." She reached into her pocket, bringing out two small boxes, handing the silver-wrapped one to Avon and the gold to Vila.

With delighted smiles at her, the two men tore eagerly into the wrappings, Avon with abandon, Vila more carefully. Avon lifted an elegant silver locket from his box as Vila discovered an identical golden one.

"Open them," she directed softly, then smiled as each man discovered the other's miniature portrait inside.

"They're beautiful, Cally," Vila whispered, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

"I did the paintings myself from memory. I hope they are as I remembered."

Avon took a closer look, then understood. "This is how we looked that night on the flight deck, when we…"

"…when we made our first promises," Vila finished. †

"The two of you didn't exchange any physical tokens that night, as I recall."

"No, we didn't," Avon agreed. "And we never did afterwards." He fastened the gold chain around Vila's neck, then handed the silver locket to his mate, who repeated the actions.

Avon sat on the sofa with Vila at his feet, his head resting on Avon's knee in an easy silence.

"Play something for just us, Cally, please, if you're not too tired," Avon requested, reinforcing his request with his mind, naming the tune he wanted.

She caught the look, heard the whispered request in her mind, and reached for the memory. It traveled across the years as she moved her hands over the harp strings, her voice bringing life to the words.

_The first time, ever I saw your face,_

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes,_

_And the moon and the stars,_

_ Were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark and the empty skies, my love._

_To the dark and the empty skies._

Avon's eyes closed, remembering that other time when she'd sung this for him and Vila.

She continued to sing.

_The first time, ever I kissed your mouth,_

_I felt the earth move in my hand,_

_Like the trembling heart of a captive bird,_

_That was there at my command, my love,_

_That was there, at my command._

She came to the final verse. "Sing it with me, Vila," she invited.

Vila's soft tenor joined in the harmony, his heart swelling with the words, remembering Avon's own words to him of the night before. He felt his lover's hand grip his as he gave voice to the feelings in both their hearts.

_The first time, ever I lay with you,_

_And felt your heart beat, so close to mine,_

_I knew our joy would fill the worlds,_

_And would last till the end of time, my love._

_And would last till the end of time. __††_

"Thank you, Cally…and Vila," Avon whispered, barely able to speak for the emotion wrapped around his heart. "You don't know how much that meant to me."

"Oh, but I think I do, Avon. I remember, just as you do," she said.

Avon placed a hand on Vila's head, tipping it up so he could look the other man in the eyes. "I love you, Vila," he said in a firm, unhesitating voice. "I love you." Then he caught Cally's eye and smiled.

Vila climbed to his feet, pulling Avon up and into his arms for a soft, soulful kiss. "Let's go to bed, Avon."

† _See __Ever I Saw Your Face__._

†† _Ewan MacColl, 1957._


	6. Erotic Interlude

_A/N: The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

_WARNING: Adult content! You have been warned!_

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In silence, they undressed and climbed into bed. Avon held Vila close and began to stroke the man's shoulder, then touched the chain around his neck. "You have to know that these last two days have meant more to me than any I can remember." He captured Vila's mouth with his in a light kiss, just a touching of the lips, then repeated the touch, still lightly but over and over, each time lingering a little longer. Vila moved his hands up his lover's back, his still talented fingers working a spell of their own.

"That feels so good," Avon murmured, moving against him gently. He nuzzled into Vila's shoulder. "No one has any right to be as happy as I am at this moment."

Vila's tongue raked Avon's earlobe, then the inside of his ear. He smiled as the other man moaned in response.

They moved against each other slowly, gently, each wanting this to last as long as possible. Vila felt his lover's arousal growing and moved away. "Not yet, love," he whispered. "We have all night."

"We have the rest of our lives," Avon reminded him.

"Yes…" Vila's lips traveled downward over Avon's chest, to his belly, where he thoroughly kissed and explored the entire area, carefully avoiding the throbbing erection waiting for him.

"Please…"

"No, Avon, I intend to take as long as possible." He moved to the side, tasting the crevice where leg met body, discovering a new zone of ecstasy, running his tongue back and forth in a lazy line. He felt Avon's hand on his head, pushing him toward the center.

"Not just yet," he admonished.

"You'll pay for this, Vila." The throaty growl from Avon only served to arouse him further.

"I plan on it." Vila moved across now to the other side and repeated his tasting, smiling as he heard what sounded almost like a sob from Avon. The former thief had always had a talent for seduction and tonight he found himself calling up every skill he possessed and inventing a few new ones on the spot.

Avon found himself nearly crying in his need. In all his years as Vila's lover, he couldn't ever remember a night as intense as this one. When he could manage a coherent thought he wondered how long he could allow himself to be taken this way. Right now, he didn't really care. He was brought back to stark reality as Vila's mouth covered him. He twisted Vila's hair in his fingers, "Yes…" he murmured.

But Vila had only just begun and refused to move as he knew Avon wanted. Instead, he lightly kissed the shaft, his tongue touching then moving away.

Reluctantly, Vila left his prize and began to nip at the soft flesh of Avon's inner thighs.

"My gods, Vila!" Avon cried out at this newest onslaught. "What are you trying to do to me!"

"Just loving you…the way you should…be loved…" Vila answered between quick bites.

When Avon thought he could stand no more, and said so, Vila moved away to pull his lover close, his hand stroking over the bite marks, soothing. He rolled over and reached for the jar at the bedside, sitting up, pulling Avon to a sitting position beside him.

Over the years, the two men had developed an erotic ritual between them, one that varied little. Non-verbal cues always signaled that one or both of them desired the joining of bodies, always with Avon achieving the penetration of his lover in the final act of love. The position mattered little, only the ultimate mutual satisfaction.

Vila knew it was time now to culminate this wondrous night of love. As always, he opened the container, thinking to prepare Avon, knowing how excited the other man always became as his shaft was slowly covered with the lubricant. It took all of Vila's skill not to bring Avon to climax during the sensuous prologue.

He was about to dip his fingers into the fragrant substance when Avon reached out and stayed him. With a not-quite smile, he took the jar from Vila's hands, noting the look of surprise turning soon to expectation. He twirled a finger into the cream and held it up, beckoning, "Come here, Vila." The certainty in his voice surprised both of them. Tentatively, Avon touched his coated finger to Vila's upright shaft, spreading it over the throbbing head and down. He scooped out more of the lubricant and added it to the area he'd already covered, watching his lover's face, Vila's mouth open in desire, his breathing coming in sharp gasps.

"Avon, what…"

Avon hushed him. "Not now, Vila." Touching Vila's lips lightly with his free hand, he said, "It's your turn tonight."

"Are you…sure about this, Avon?"

"Positive." He stroked Vila's erection, completely coating it now in the pearlescent mixture. "But I want to make sure we're both ready before we go all the way with it."

"Of…of course," Vila could barely speak as his lover's hands moved over him, stealing all his sensibilities. He tried to say more, but his voice failed him totally as he sank back against the pillows, helpless as a feather in a ghost wind.

Avon left off his ministrations, moving up to lie beside the other man, whispering softly in his ear, "I think we've waited long enough. If I can't trust you now, I'll never be able to." With those words, he rolled over, his back to Vila.

Vila ran his hand down Avon's side from his chest, over his hip, then reached over, grasping the man's pulsing member and stroking hard and fast.

Avon moved with the rhythm of Vila's strokes, rocking back and forth, acutely aware of the straining flesh seeking entry. "I don't think I can wait much longer, Vila," he moaned, his movements gaining speed.

"Oh no, Avon, not yet…" Vila pulled his hand away, rolling Avon onto his stomach. "You need more." He reached for the jar. "Spread your legs, Avon…and relax."

Avon drew a deep, shuddering sigh, attempting to comply. "That's not as easy as it sounds."

"I know, but I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

"I could, if we rush things." Vila touched the opening, not penetrating, just gently rubbing the cream on the outside. At the moment he felt Avon's tenseness lessen, he slipped one finger inside, hesitantly.

Avon gasped and held his breath.

"Hurts?" Vila asked.

Avon just nodded.

"Breathe then, Avon, take deep breaths, it'll be better if you do."

The other man obeyed, at first exhaling, then doing as Vila had directed, his intake of air moving in time to Vila's probing.

"See," he whispered. "Easier now, isn't it?"

"Yes…"

A second finger joined the first. This time Avon sought the invasion, welcoming and savoring it. "That's…so…good…" he struggled to speak against the tide of pure lust moving against Vila's hand. "Vila, please, I can't wait much longer."

"I know, love," Vila whispered. "Now turn over and look at me, only me."

Avon rolled onto his back with a gasp, realizing that Vila's fingers were still inside his body.

"See my face, know it's me and no one else that's making love to you. Whatever happened in your past to frighten you off this, it's done. Let me make it so good for you that you can forget." Vila withdrew his fingers and pushed Avon's knees up and out, positioning himself for entry. He reached up, linking with Avon's hands for balance, and thrust slightly, his face close to Avon's. Then he leaned down and brushed his lover's lips with his mouth, entering the body beneath him gradually.

"Tell me if I hurt you," he breathed.

Avon said nothing but rolled his head from side to side, moaning.

"Is it good?"

He stopped moaning and nodded slightly, lips parted. "All the way in, Vila, now!"

Vila smiled down at him, entering him completely at that moment, then stopping. "Is this what you want, Avon?"

"Gods, yes! Oh, Vila…" Avon's body thrust upward, communicating his desire for the act's completion.

Vila still held onto Avon's fingers as he rocked gently in and out of the man's body, so close that Avon's erection was trapped between them, the friction bringing him perilously close to orgasm.

Avon wrapped his legs around Vila's back, pulling him even closer, moving as one with the man who was now making love so completely to him.

Vila felt himself reaching his own peak and knew it would be sooner than he wanted. It was building inside him now, sending him headlong to the climax. He concentrated on bringing Avon to the summit at the same time, his movements quicker and sharper.

It hit them simultaneously, time ceasing to exist as Vila's life fluid poured into his lover's body, bathing tender tissues. Vila felt the warm stickiness between them as Avon also came in an uncontrolled explosion.

Vila continued to move, slowing gradually, then finally stopping altogether. He collapsed onto Avon who was very nearly unconscious now.

"Vila…" a hoarse whisper in his ear.

"Mmmmmm…"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Avon, so very welcome." Vila could barely speak but managed the response, then rolled to his side, keeping Avon joined to him.

"It was worth the wait," Avon said quietly, touching his mouth to Vila's, watching the man's face as his eyes closed in sleep. Avon smiled, stroking Vila's cheek tenderly. "You are my lifeline, Vila." With those soft words spoken, Avon drifted into slumber as well, still holding Vila close.


	7. Saving the Best Gift Till Last

_A/N: The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

_What could make this event, this celebration, even more special to Avon and Vila?_

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"It's late, Vila," Avon purred. "We do have houseguests to see to."

Vila rolled onto his back with a low moan. "I don't think I can move, Avon…"

"Oh, I think you can." Avon slipped from the bed, walked to the desk and pulled out a rolled parchment, laying it on the pillow.

Vila raised himself on one elbow. "What's this then?"

"Well, it can't quite compare to that incredible piece of artwork hanging over the fireplace downstairs, but I wrote it myself. And it's for you."

Vila opened the scroll, recognizing Avon's distinctive calligraphy. He read the words on it, a lump growing in his throat, tears almost obscuring the words. They fell unheeded onto the covers.

LIFELINE

Just children long ago that day when we met

You saved my life, became my friend, and yet

Even then you must have known there would come a time

When you would become my own – my

LIFELINE.

When young love beckoned, I slipped and I fell

So far from you – a descent into Hell

But you pulled me out – It seems just in time

Once again you were there, my only

LIFELINE.

When that red-haired genius lured me away

With dreams of wealth and there was Hell to pay,

You were faithful as always, right down the line

And you waited for me then, my only

LIFELINE.

Another love called me, but I was cruelly betrayed

All through those years, memory refusing to fade

But when I knew what she was and had to watch as she died,

You understood and you held me, always my

LIFELINE.

And when I flew too close to Blake's blazing sun

Almost drifting away – I thought he might be the one

But it came crashing down, I almost crossed the line,

You were my salvation, my lover, my

LIFELINE.

But then there came that one awful day

When in my selfishness and pride, I nearly threw it away

But you took me back and one more time,

You were there for me as always, ever my

LIFELINE.

Many years are behind us and now we live free

As I look back at it all, it's easy to see

Why so many have called us the Thieves in Time

But you are Vila, my beloved, my only

LIFELINE.

As he read the last line, Vila pushed the paper aside and pulled its author into a fierce hug. "I always suspected you had the soul of a poet, Avon, but I could never prove it. I don't quite know what to say."

"Nothing to say, Vila. Just stay with me, forever."

Vila laughed. "No need to worry on that score. You've got me and I'm not ever leaving."

They held each other close, cuddling silently for several minutes.

"I guess I had better get up," Vila said finally, moving away reluctantly. He dressed while Avon lay watching him, smiling. He invited Avon with a smile, "Come on, let's go see if Cally's up and get some breakfast,"


	8. Inheritance and Progeny

_A/N: The usual disclaimer: I own nothing of Blake's Seven. I just enjoy messing with their lives. The characters belong to Terry Nation and BBC. Darkover belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley._

_There's still something missing._

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It was late afternoon by the time the last of the overnight guests had departed. Cally was off visiting Gwenneth in the tower, comparing notes on various aspects of their respective telepathies. Vila and Avon sat sharing coffee and some of the leftover cakes from the party in their small sitting room.

"Vila, there's something on my mind that I'd like to ask you."

"Sound serious."

"There's only one thing that's missing from our lives."

"Missing?"

"Yes, and before we came here, I wouldn't have even considered it."

"What are you talking about?"

Avon hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "The only drawback to relationships like ours…is that…there can be no children."

"Children?" Vila was incredulous. "Did I hear you right?"

"Yes. Look around you, Vila. We've begun building quite an estate for ourselves, not to mention the trading company. What'll become of it when we're gone?"

"I…don't really want to think about it."

"Well," Avon said, looking down, "no one lives forever, not even you or me. We should designate an heir."

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"

"Not until Cally told us about her daughter. That's what started me thinking."

"Avon…you don't regret…not ever fathering a child, do you?"

"Of course not! That's not what I'm saying, not at all."

"Then what are you getting at?"

"How would you feel if we made Cally's daughter our heir? She could come here to live when she's old enough, if she and Cally agreed."

Vila thought for a moment, the idea growing on him. He nodded slowly, with some reservations. "I'd like that very much, Avon. But would you?" He watched Avon's face, searching for the man's true feelings. He didn't want his partner to feel obligated to this if it wasn't truly what he wanted. He didn't have to do this just for Vila's sake.

Avon took Vila's hand, staring earnestly into the warm brown eyes of the man he loved so much. "Yes. Definitely! I still remember how it was when we first came here and you were teaching. You seemed to enjoy it so and the children certainly loved you. Do you ever miss those days?"

"No, not a bit," Vila temporized, shifting his position a bit. "Besides, there's the staff's youngsters here to deal with." He went still, his eyes unreadable to Avon's searching gaze, then something like quiet hope lit Vila's face from within. "To have someone we could foster would make our lives compete somehow."

"It's the custom here, you know," Avon pointed out. "So nothing would be said, I'm sure."

"And with Serran here, it would give Cally a good reason to visit often. She said her daughter's abilities will require training. What better place than a world of telepaths?"

"Then you agree with my idea?" asked Avon.

Vila answered with a smile, nodding.

"Then we'll talk to Cally tonight at dinner."

Vila nodded as the two then fell to musing about what life would be like with a daughter to raise and guide to womanhood.

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Avon waited, instead, until the last evening before Cally's departure to resume her duties on the Auron Colony's behalf. Sitting together again in the library, savoring an after-dinner drink, the three friends shared an easy silence before the fire.

Cally had taken one of the wingback chairs this last time, so that she could see both her friends. Vila, ever the one to sit on the floor, given the choice, sat with his back against the sofa next to Avon, occasionally throwing an arm across or leaning against his knees. Vila could feel a tension about Avon and briefly wondered at its cause until he remembered their talk about Serran as their prospective heir.

Avon broke the silence finally. "Cally, what are you going to do about Serran's psychic training, when she's beyond your colony's capabilities?"

Cally gazed pensively into the fire crackling in the large hearth. "I don't really know, Avon. I estimate that by the time she's ten or so, her powers will need a more disciplined and extensive training than we can give her." She paused a moment, then rushed on. "Avon, Vila, I have a favor to ask of you."

They looked at each other, startled and hoping they were reading her right. Avon's mind whispered to Vila, *Could she possibly want us to take in Serran, as much as we want to?*

Vila answered her. "Cally, anything we could do for you would still be small repayment for what you've done for us. We…" He turned, raising his eyes to Avon's, and smiled, "would never have this home, this life…each other, without your help. We owe you, Cally, and…we love you, too," he finished, placing his arm across Avon's knees, speaking for the both of them.

Avon nodded in total agreement. "Yes, Cally, anything we can do for you, you have but to name it."

She hesitated, took a deep breath, and plunged on. "I'd like you to foster Serran when the time comes. I know it's asking a lot of you two to take a child into your home, but…"

She'd been looking down at her hands, avoiding their eyes, so she was startled to find herself surrounded by two 'thieves' hugging her!

*Cally, it's what we wanted to ask you!* Avon happily sent to her.

She turned wondering eyes from Avon to Vila and back before asking them, "You wanted Serran to come live here? I don't understand."

With a last squeeze, the men pulled away from Cally, Avon sitting on the arm of her chair with his arm across the back. He began, "Cally, we'd like to foster Serran, yes, but more than that, we'd like to declare her our heir – to Avilla and the trading company as well. However," he raised a hand, forestalling her reaction, "we…I was afraid you'd think we would take her away from you, but that's not our intent at all."

She interrupted his explanation. "It's all right, Avon. I understand that you mean only the best for Serran. My one concern in this is that I won't be able to spend as much time with her while she's growing up, developing, as I had hoped."

"But why not, Cally?" Vila asked.

"Because my first responsibility is to the Auron colony. Without me actively working for its survival, it could well die out. I'm needed there, Vila," she finished sadly, hoping they would understand.

"I think we can help, can't we, Avon?" Vila glanced up into Avon's eyes, knowing the man understood what he was offering.

"I'm certain we can. The main purpose of your work is to obtain money and supplies for the colony, am I correct?" She nodded. "Then, with the backing of Avilla Trading Company, your work should go faster and easier – leaving you more time to spend here, with Serran…and us."

"Oh, Avon, Vila, you would do that – invest your own fortunes in rebuilding Auron, for Serran…for me?"

"For you, Cally, yes, we would."

Avon continued, "We'll legitimize her as our heir right away, of course, but we'll have to take care of the legalities of fostering when you think Serran is ready to come to us. She'll be legally of age at fifteen here, though, and will be under our complete protection until then."

Suddenly Vila laughed. The other two looked inquiringly at him. He couldn't stop laughing long enough to tell them of the image, sprung full-fledged into his mind, for several seconds. He was still sputtering when he managed to speak. "Avon – a father? Heaven protect any young man come calling on Kerr Avon's daughter!"

After one startled second, Cally joined in, though Avon swelled up in indignation, glowering around at the two, before he too burst out laughing, a wondrous, free, and joyful sound that filled Vila's heart with love and his eyes with tears. He couldn't tell whether they were tears of joy or laughter.

It really didn't matter.

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_A/N: Thus ends HOUSEWARMING. The story of Avon and Vila on Darkover continues with AVON'S LITTLE GIRL. Find out what kind of father Avon becomes, with Vila's active participation._


End file.
